


Enfolded

by Dellessa



Series: Night Cycle Verse [9]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Dubious Consent, Forced Bonding, Incest, M/M, Non Consensual, Prostitution, Slavery, Spark Sex, Sticky Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-22
Updated: 2012-12-22
Packaged: 2017-11-21 23:35:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/603301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dellessa/pseuds/Dellessa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The door slid open, revealing a Praxian. The mech’s doorwings held high in obvious irritation. His plating was brilliantly white, with splashes of black. There was odd slashes of pink across his plating. It took a klik for Thundercracker’s processor to register that it was, in fact, mech-blood. His optics widened and he shrunk back as the mech drew closer, not saying anything. Its gold optics were overly bright, and bled to red along the edges.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enfolded

Title: Enfolded  
Author(s): Dellessa  
Verse: G1ish with bits of IDW  
Series:Night Cycle  
Rating: M  
Warnings/Content: Vampires. Incest. Slavery. Non-Con. Forced Bondings. Non-con/Dub-con.  
Pairings/Characters: Jazz/Prowl/Thundercracker, Prowl/Bluestreak  
Notes: Not mine!!!  
Prompt: Advent Day 21! Vampires!  
Words: 8422  
  
Jazz clung to Thundercracker, burying his face against the flier’s plating. It had gone eerily quiet after the screaming. They both shook, afraid of what would happen next. They heard footsteps, shuffling about, but no one burst into the room that they were being held.  
  
“Shhh...” Thundercracker whispered, smoothing a hand across Jazz’s winglets. He shifted, manacles clacking. The chains were over kill. Far thicker than it would have taken to hold either mech. They were both small bots, not much bigger than minis, truthfully. It was not uncommon for bots like them, sparked to be berth slaves. Illegally sparked, neither had grown up like free mechs. Each upgrade had been an agony. Their keepers would only add a quarter of the amount of protomass that they should have received, keeping them overly small, even though their sparks were far larger than any true minibot would have.  
  
“What are they doing?” Jazz whispered, clinging more tightly if anything.  
  
“I don’t know,” the flier said, his spark beating rapidly under his chest plates. It was tempting to reach through the bond to Jazz, seeking comfort, but he held back, not wanting to scare the little black and white mech more. Jazz had always been a skittish thing. He had always thought that was why they had been forced to bond, his spark was far more calm. But he was not sure, they had been forced to bond when they were far too young. He wondered if Jazz would not have calmed on his own with age, unfortunately it wasn’t something that they would ever know.  
  
The noise stopped in front of the doorway where they were being held, causing both mechs to shrink back. Thundercracker pushed Jazz behind him, shielding the smaller mech.  
  
The door slid open, revealing a Praxian. The mech’s doorwings held high in obvious irritation. His plating was brilliantly white, with splashes of black. There was odd slashes of pink across his plating. It took a klik for Thundercracker’s processor to register that it was, in fact, mech-blood. His optics widened and he shrunk back as the mech drew closer, not saying anything. Its gold optics were overly bright, and bled to red along the edges.  
  
The creature didn’t speak, just moved close looking them over. Its face was dispassionate, cold, and Thundercracker could not hold back the little whimper of fear that burst from his vocalizer.  
  
“I’m not going to harm you, little one,” the creature said, its voice just as cold and emotionless. It reached out, grabbing one of the chains, and snapping it like it was nothing. The other chains followed shortly. Both mechs sat up looking dazed. “Come along.”    
  
Thundercracker didn’t move, “They will only capture us again.” His wings fluttered, betraying his nervousness. “We’re chipped.”    
  
“And then they will punish us,” Jazz added, his own voice quavering.  
  
“Easily fixed,” the Praxian stated, “I can promise you they will not find you again. Not and live to regret it.”  
  
“How can you...” Thundercracker began, startling when white claws reached out, grabbing him.  
  
“Their reinforcements will be here soon. I do not have time for this.” He pulled Thundercracker along, knowing that Jazz would follow, and he did, unsurprisingly.  
  
“Where are we going?” Jazz piped up, nearly running to keep up with the Praxian’s pace. They slipped outside, leaving both mechs gawking. They had rarely been allowed outside, and never without a keeper.  
  
Jazz looked up optics wide. “It’s so big.” He said, taking in the sky for a moment before he was hurried down into a narrow back alley, and through what seemed like a mecha-rat maze to Jazz.  
  
“You never answered Jazz, where are you taking us?” Thundercracker asked again. “Who are you?”  
  
“So many questions.” Gold optics fastened on Thundercracker’s own. “I am Prowl, and I am taking you to Soundwave. He is...one of my fledglings.”  
  
Thundercracker frowned, trying to understand just what the mech was talking about. He had little time to ask as they were ushered through a nondescript doorway, and down a long hall.  
  
“Prowl: Has been busy,” a large blue mech said, stepping out of a doorway, allowing them entry before leading them into a well lived in common room. Recordicons seemed to be lounging on nearly every free space. “Come: must jack in to work.”  
  
“What?” Thundercracker balked, even when Prowl pushed him down into a chair beside the host mech.  
  
Prowl grabbed his wrist, manually opening the medical port and offering it to Soundwave. The mech was already unspooling a cord from his wrist, and plugged into Thundercracker with little preamble.  
  
“Thundercracker: Calm down. Will only take a moment,” the host said. It was the only warning that the Seeker had before the host mech plunged through his systems and meta. He was everywhere, tweaking and changing code. Before Thundercracker could do anything he was pushed into stasis, the world fading to black around him.  


OoOoOoOoOoOo

  
Warmth surrounded him, making Thundercracker reluctant to finish booting up. The sequence finally finished, and he onlined his optics, frowning as he took in the darkened room. The berth beneath him was one of the softest he had ever felt, and Jazz was still clinging to him, deep in recharge. He froze where he was, petting the little mech’s plating. He felt different, frowning as he checked his own coding. If opened for him easily, allowing him access to systems he had never had access to before. Most noticeably, the slave coding was stripped away.  
  
He wiggled out from under Jazz, and tucked the mech in. Thundercracker was not entirely surprised that Jazz did not stir, he had been beyond exhausted, and the stress of the situation only seemed to exacerbate it. He crept out, craning his neck as he looked about the stone hallway.    
  
“Oh good, you are online,” a voice came from behind him, sending Thundercracker flinching and whirling around. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Bluestreak, you must be Thundercracker, right. Cause your the flier, and I was send to get you both, only there is just one of you---”  
  
“Jazz is still sleeping. He didn’t stir when I moved him so---”  
  
“Oh, that’s fine I guess. Lord Prowl wanted to speak with the both of you. But I guess one will do. I hope so anyway.” He turned, motioning for the little Seeker to follow him.  
  
The grey doorwinger led him through a seeming maze of hallways, they walked until Thundercracker was more than a little bit lost, and finally stopped in front of a large set of double doors, which opened into a large office. A massive desk sat in the middle of it, and behind it the white Praxian from the cycle before.  
  
“You are Thundercracker, correct?” the voice was just as cold as before. Dispassionate.  
  
“I am.” Thundercracker said, proud that his voice did not shake.  
  
“You have a few choices. If you wish we will help you find your family---”  
  
“That is not an option, ah...sir. Our family worked for---th---the slavers sir. They would only give us back to them. They are paid well for any sparklings they produce. Unfortunately.” Thundercracker looked down at his peds, hot energon rushing to his cheekplates. It was a mortifying thought, but the slavers had made sure they understand that they were only good for one thing. Even their creators agreed. “P-please don’t send us back there.” He shook to think about it, wings quivering with distress at the thought of it.     
  
“Or, you could stay here with us as apprentices, much like Bluestreak.” The white Praxian said, motioning to the grey one.  
  
“I---am not sure I---I understand.” Thundercracker said, “Apprentice for what?”  
  
“To be one of my kind,” he said, eyes faintly glowing.  
  
Thundercracker thought back to the greyed bodies that had littered the hallways as they fled. Necks ripped out, and all the mech-blood on Prowl. There had been stories told in the quiet of night about such things. Stories that Thundercracker had always written off as mere fancy.  “You are a vampire?” he asked doubt in his voice, as well as the smallest edge of hope.  
  
“I am. As was Soundwave,” the white Praxian said in an even voice.  
  
“And our other option?” Thundercracker asked, softly.  
  
“We wipe your memories and send you away. Separately, most likely. It would keep you safer.”  
  
Thundercracker shook his head in denial. “We---we can’t be separated. He is all I have. We will stay then.”  
  
Prowl looked at him blandly, “As I understand it was a forced bonding. We could have it dissolved for you. That is a possibility.”    
  
“No---I don’t---just no. Please don’t. I love him, and he needs me.” Thundercracker said, his wings high and overly still, a measure of his distress. “We will stay here.”    
  
“Don’t you need to ask your bondmate what he wants to do?” Prowl asked, looking the small Seeker up and down.  
  
He shook his head, “We will stay. I just don’t know why you would want us.”  
  
Prowl laughed, showing some of the first emotion. He moved faster than Thundercracker could have imagined he found himself caught up in the other mech’s arms. “Why not, little mech?”  The vampire nuzzled into his neck plating, nipping, before sinking his fangs in, taking the smallest of tastes. He shuttered his optics, “You are delicious, and perhaps you can help solve the problem I’ve been having...the one you were entangled in.”  
  
Thundercracker stood on wobbly struts once Prowl let him go, one hand going automatically to his neck. He shivered, and held his hands close to keep him from reaching out for the white plating. The Praxian made his engine run hot, as much as he was still scared of the mech. “The slavers?”  
  
“There are some things I do not permit in my city. Did you ever see the bot running the operation? The one in charge?”  
  
Thundercracker’s wings fluttered as his agitation rose, “Y-yes, h-he ah---he insisted on seeing to our---our training himself.”  
  
Prowl latched onto the fleeting image of a purple and black mech that flitted across Thundercracker’s mind. “Clench...as I thought. He has been a pain in my side for far, far too long.” His optics drifted to Bluestreak, who had been standing by the door, watching the exchange. “You may take him back now.”  
  
Thundercracker watched him for a moment, reluctantly he turned and left. His finger’s still twitching.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOo

  
  
The Polyhexian was still recharging when Thundercracker returned to the room they had been given. He stirred, opening half-lidded optics. “Where did you go?”  
  
“Prowl wanted to speak to us,” He said, climbing up onto the berth and pulling Jazz against his chest. “I---you were pretty out of it.”  
  
Jazz vented, turning in his arms and clinging to the flier. “What did he have to say?”  
  
“He...offered to find our families and return us to them. I...explained that wouldn’t be possible. He also said that he could send us away...but we would be separated. He said he could break our bond.” Jazz trembled beneath his digits. “I told him that wasn’t possible.”  
  
Thundercracker held on tightly to Jazz until his shaking stopped. “I can’t...we can’t...you're all I have,” Jazz whimpered.  
  
“Don’t worry. He said we could stay here...we just...he’s not...” Thundercracker opened his mouth, trying to figure out how to phrase it. “He’s not... a normal mech...”  
  
Jazz pulled away to lean back and look at Thundercracker. His optics fell on the wounds on the flier’s neck. “Oh...I see.” He touched them gingerly. “Did it hurt?”    
  
“No, it didn’t hurt,” Thundercracker said, flustered. “Quite the opposite.”    
  
“You don’t think he is just going to kill us?” Jazz asked softly.  
  
“No...I think he would have done that already if he was going to. Don’t worry about it, sweetspark. We’ll get through this. We’ve gotten through much worse, right?”  
  
“We have,” Jazz whispered. They had been so close to being sent to the mech that had bought them. He shivered to think of it. They had been through so much. He could admit though, it had been worse before he had been put with Thundercracker. They had little choice in their bond, the buyer had wanted a bonded pair, but they had made the most of it. Jazz settled himself in the crook of Thundercracker’s arm, resting his head against the other mech’s chestplates.  
  
For all the time they had spent together, they had had little time alone, and no privacy. There was always someone watching them, or worse making them do something. This was a welcome change. Thundercracker smoothed his claws over Jazz’s chestplates, his touch gentle. “Are you sure you want to stay here? He will---he will make us like him. I---I want him to, honestly.” He let his field flare out, fear of the situation, and something else. A need to belong. Desire. Jazz’s field mingled with his own, soothingly. They would pursue the Praxian if that was what Thundercracker wanted. Jazz was hardly against such a thing.     
  
Jazz considered it, humming quietly. The sound reverberating against Thundercracker’s plating. “No, it wouldn’t be such a bad thing. They wouldn’t be able to take us then. And maybe we could find our siblings,” Jazz whispered.  
  
It was something they had talked of little, but it was something close to their sparks. The trine bond pulled on Thundercracker’s spark, insistently at times. He knew his brothers were alive. He hoped that wherever they were, whoever had them was treating them well.  
  
Jazz’s sibling, on the other hand, was close. While they were not split spark twins, they were twins and had shared time in their creators gestation tank. There was a bond there, though not as strong as the trinebond. “He is close, I know. I can feel it,” Jazz whispered, “How could I not try to save him?”  
  
Their lips met, fields mingling. Thundercracker was hard pressed to deny Jazz anything, much less this. His chestplates slid away first, gasping when Jazz did the same, and for a time they were one. Their sparks pressed close together, charge rolling across heated plating, until they were not sure where one began and the other ended.  


OoOoOoOoOoOo

  
The room beyond was dark, but the grey Praxian stepped inside anyway. “Prowl?” he asked softly, moving across the room to turn on the lights. The room brightened, but only minutely.  
  
“What do you want?” the white Praxian asked, stepping out of one of the deeper shadows.  
  
“Are you really going to turn them?” he asked, squirming under the vampire’s regard.  
  
Laughter tricked off of Prowl’s glossa, “I don’t make idle promises, child. You should know that well enough.”  
  
Bluestreak nodded, moving closer until he was close enough to touch Prowl, “I know, I... just... they aren’t of your line. They aren’t family.”    
  
“No, they aren’t, but that is not always a bad thing. They are no less deserving, I would say. What happened to them should never have happened, not in my city,” the last was said in a low growl.  
  
“Barricade said---”  
  
Prowl laughed, stopping Bluestreak before he could get anymore out. “My brother is a jealous glitch who does not like me to share my time with anyone else but him. You of all mechs should know this.”  
  
“Streetwise said---”    
  
“He is even worse than Barricade in his own way,” Prowl said, hugging Bluestreak tightly. “They are only going to get you into trouble scraplet, and if you say you have been talking to Smokescreen as well...”  
  
Bluestreak made a squeaking noise, and buried his face against Prowl’s plating. “They don’t like strangers,” came his muffled reply.    
  
“No, they do not. But exceptions can must be made once in awhile when we find worthy individuals. Mechs who are worthy of our gift. And soon enough, you will be turned as well,” Prowl laughed again at the little whine that escaped Bluestreak’s vocalizer.  
  
“If you think so, you know I’m always on your side. I really am. Even if the others don’t agree---” Prowl tilted the other Praxian’s head back, catching his lips. Sometimes it was the only way to stop Bluestreak once he got warmed up into a good ramble. Lips glossed across the grey Praxian’s faceplates, to settle on his neck. Prowl nuzzled in, kissing the sweet spot on his neck before sinking his teeth in.  
  
The mewl that left Bluestreak’s vocaliser was music to Prowl’s audials. The energon that flowed into his mouth sent his systems running hot, as much as the sounds that Bluestreak was making. He pushed them back until they hit the desk, and lifted Bluestreak until he was sitting on the edge.  
  
Bluestreak looked up in a daze, his optics overly bright. “Prowl?”  
  
“Shhhh...enough talking, pet,” Prowl said, kissing him into silence.  


OoOoOoOoOoOo

  
  
Thundercracker lost count of the cycles that passed. He almost grew used to the subterranean fortress, as much as any flier could become used to being below ground in any case. He was more surprised when they were deposited by Bluestreak into the hands of Barricade. The little grey Praxian had said that he was their weapons master, and they all had to learn to defend themselves. Even him, it would seem, as he showed up for every lesson with them, and proved to be far more suited for it than even Thundercracker.  
  
Jazz, on the other hand, seemed a natural. Thankfully. It seemed to improve the dour Praxian’s mood. For all that Barricade taught them, and even seemed to do right by them, he clearly did not like them or approve of their presence in his world.  
  
Jazz was quick, his motions smooth as he ran through the katas that Barricade had taught them. Thundercracker was almost jealous of the way Jazz just seemed to flow through them, as if he had been doing this his whole life. Thundercracker tried to remember them as he went through, but he knew his form was not the best. Still better than Bluestreak’s.  
  
Not that the little Praxian seemed to really care. He pulled them along when Barricade finally dismissed them, bounding beside them like an over energized youngling. “Oh, come on, we have target practice today. It’s so much better than anything grumpy-aft teaches, I swear it is.”  
  
Thundercracker and Jazz exchanged a glance, but followed Bluestreak all the same, far deeper into the compound than they had ever ventured and finally into a large gallery, which clearly was the shooting range.  
  
“Oh, good, I was hoping you would be on time,” a green and white femme said as they walked through the entryway. Her smiled was bright as she herded them inside. “I’m Moonracer. You’re other instructor is Rumble. We will not be doing any shooting today, I’m so sorry, Blue. I want you to get comfortable with the weapons first. Prowl was adamant that I personally make sure that you can both defend yourselves. Tomorrow we will be visiting our medic to get your weapon systems online, and also I will introduce you to your tutor.”  
  
Thundercracker blinked under the onslaught of words, she chattered as bad as Bluestreak. “What?”    
  
“What do you mean what?” she smiled cheerily. “There are certain things that will be expected of you. We cannot have the uneducated among our ranks, and I’m sure that was not something that they saw to where you were at, correct?”    
  
It felt as though the energon drained from Thundercracker’s body. This was the last thing he would imagine would happen. “No...not that wasn’t one of their goals.”  
  
She patted his shoulder, and somehow that irked Thundercracker than anything else. They were of a height. “It’s fine,” she continued on cheerily as she lead them to a weapons cabinet.    
  
“What the frack, Moonracer, starting without me?” A recordicon asked, coming up behind them. The little red mech glared up at them appraisingly. “Eh, Boss said they’d be sending these two over ta us.”  
  
“Really, I wasn’t aware that Soundwave had any interest in them,” Moonracer said looking surprised. “I didn’t even know they had been brought in until Prowl called me in.”  
  
Rumble snorted, “Prowler brought them over to Boss before they even got here. Does it even matter?” he asked, his tone showing his annoyance.  
  
“Who are you talking about?” Jazz cut in, looking contrite even as his curiosity got the best of him.  
  
“Soundwave, man. I’m one of his.” Rumble said, shrugging. “Doesn’t matter, we’re here to get the lot of you squared away.” He eyed Jazz, and then Thundercracker, before grabbing two blasters and shoving it at the both of them.  
  
Thundercracker looked down at the blaster in his hand, and wondered for the millionth time just what they had gotten themselves into.     


OoOoOoOoOoOo

  
One Vorn ago...  
  
 _The tower was quiet when Starscream came stalking in. It had been a long day at university and all he wanted to do was come home to his brother. It was a relief from the times he had been forced to go home only to spend time with their pretend creator. They had been young when the mech had bought them and brought them home. He had passed them both off as his own creations. They had had the best of education, the best tutors, the best upgrades. Never wanting for anything, but their brother._  
  
 _Decimus always held Thundercracker over their head though. Threatening them with the same fate as their brother, or worse still purchasing Thundercracker only to deactivate him. He made it to pointedly say how the other Seeker had clearly only been good enough for sucking spike, and they should both be thankful that he raised them far above that._  
  
 _Starscream had spent far too many nights listening to Skywarp cry himself to recharge, and tug uselessly on the bond. So, they went along with it for vorns, pretending to be the sparklings of Jhiaxus, Decimus’ offlined mate. Sometimes it even seemed as though the aging senator had believed it._  
  
 _Starscream never forgot though. He bided his time. Played the dutiful child and made the most of it when he was old enough to go off to study. He didn’t like leaving Skywarp behind, it left him with a very worried feeling in the pit of his spark._  
  
 _He walked through the tower, frowning at the quietude. Normally Skywarp would have been bounding through the hallways, tackling him and laughing. His brother was always so happy despite everything._  
  
 _A sense of dread welled up in his spark. Noticing for the first time how Skywarp had shut his side of the bond, despite this he could still feel his brother’s fear which only amplified as he drew closer to their berthrooms._  
  
 _He threw it open, and found himself moving forward before he realized what he was doing. Decimus had Skywarp pinned to the berth, the flier crying out in distress. Starscream jumped onto the senator’s back, tearing into him. His sharp claws finding a main energon line and slashed, finally leaving the old grounder to bleed out on the floor._  
  
 _It was easy enough to make Decimus’ death look like a suicide. He was old and everyone knew that he still mourned his dead mate. Starscream did not even have to fake his sorrow. He was very sorry that he had not made the mech suffer more._  
  
 _Sorrier still that it had taken him cycles to fix the damage that Decimus had done to Skywarp’s warp generator to prevent his escape. It left Starscream feeling ill that any of this could have happened._  
  
 _Skywarp, on the other hand, seemed determined not to talk about any of it. Starscream could not help but suspect that Decimus had used his brother for far longer than---he didn’t even want to consider it._  
  
 _Presently..._  
  
 _“So you found him?” Skywarp asked hopefully, his gold optics wide with barely concealed hope._  
  
 _“I found out where he had been held.” Starscream had had to torture the bot for hours to get him to admit that much. “I---I don’t know Warp, he got away. I found out some---some things though. It’s not good.”_  
  
 _“But...we have a warm trail this time. How could that not be good?” Skywarp asked, optics still bright._  
  
 _“The---the bot told me some of what they had done to him. I’m not even sure we will recognize him. They---they stunted his growth. He is probably...he is not going to be a normal Seeker. I know that much. He escaped with a black and white minibot. The mech claimed that they were---they were bonded. I can’t see how that would even be possibly.”_  
  
 _“Maybe he was forced into it,” Skywarp said in a tiny voice, “Maybe the stupid glitch was lying about it.”_  
  
 _“Perhaps,” Starscream frowned._  
  
 _Arms enfolded around the red and blue Seeker, holding him tightly. Starscream relaxed after a moment, holding his brother back tightly._  
  
 _“We’ll find him, Star. I know we will,” Skywarp whispered against his audial._  


OoOoOoOoOoOo

  
  
The brothel was in the seedier part of Praxus, Meister leaned over the roof, watching the bots down on the street. He didn’t have a client for a joor, but he tried not to think about that. He could feel his brother through the fleeting bond between them. He was close. Closer than he had ever been, and not for the first time Meiser was scared he would see him down in the club below. Leashed like some sentient pet. For all that it was illegal, there was more than a fair share of their clients that came in with such bots. Each time he saw one he felt ill, and thankful that it was not Jazz. And in turn he mourned each time as well. It was the only thing he wanted. More than his freedom. More than anything.  
  
He wanted to find Jazz as much as he wanted to be free of this place. He was not a bot that had any great love of pain, of humiliation. His clients gave him that in spades.  
  
“Get your aft down here, Meister. We have customer’s waiting.” Onslaught bellowed up the stairwell, making the silver mech flinch.  
  
He slunk down the stairwell, his optics adjusting to the darkness. “Sorry, sir. I was just taking a break.” His optics went to the floor, his visor dimming.    
  
He squeaked as Onslaught grabbed his arm, pulling him into the common room. “You are supposed to stay down here.” He hissed, “You left a customer waiting. You’re lucky if I don’t take it out on your plating. Now hurry up. He’s waiting in the first room.”  
  
“I’m---I’m sorry.” He said, dashing off, trying not to shake at the thought of what would happen once Onslaught finally pulled him aside. It never boded well for him. Not when his master was in such a mood.  
  
He slipped into the room, trying to smooth the nervous energy from his field as he greeted his would be client. His optics trailed over the whips lining the wall with dread. “How do you want me?” he asked, stopping before the bot, trying not to tremble.  
  
The mech circled him, a claw ghosting across his plating. He finally stopped in front of Meister, and tilted his chin up with one sharp claw.  
  
“Take off your visor,” the black Praxian ordered, gazing down at Meister with the deepest amber colored optics.  
  
Meister whined, but reached up, pulling the visor away, and watching the Praxian through white optics.  
  
“Very unique. Your brother’s are much the same,” the mech said, pinching Meister’s chin. “We have been searching for you for a long time, mech.”  
  
“What did you say?” Meister asked, shaking in earnest. “Jazz---”  
  
“Is safe, I promised,” the mech’s lips quirked up, “I’m Barricade,” the black Praxian said, still watching him. “And soon you will be as well,” the mech said firmly, looking about the room.  
  
Meister’s optics widened, “Y-you’ll bring me to him?”  
  
Barricade only nodded, frowning as he examined the whips mounted on the wall. “Assuredly. I will ask for your price...hopefully your master will take it, otherwise---things might become a bit messy.”  
  
Meister’s optics widened, wondering exactly what Barricade meant. He frowned and shrugged, “I guess.”  
  
Barricade laughed, sidling closer, “You guess? Oh, little one. You have no idea what you have gotten yourself into, do you?”  
  
White optics widened, “What---”    
  
“Even if Onslaught lets us take the easy way out of here, pet. I will be coming back for him. He is part of the problem, and Prowl does not tolerate such things in his city,” Barricade leaned in, ghosting their plating against each other. “It is my job as the prince’s enforcer.”  
  
The silver bot looked up at him, “Prince, Praxus has not had a royal family in...well before my creator’s creator was---”  
  
Barricade smiled enigmatically, “Not quite, sweetspark. Not quite.” He tilted up Meister’s chin again, catching his lips, fangs out and nicking the malleable metal. “Perhaps I will even make you one of my own.”  
  
Meister whimpered, his optics unfocused, as Barricade pushed him back onto the berth.  
  
“Perhaps just a little taste,” Barricade hummed against the smaller bot’s neck cording, sinking in his fangs. Energon trickled into Barricade’s mouth. Only a mouthful before Barricade pulled away. “Beautiful.”  
  
“What are you?” Meister looked up at him, shock written across his faceplates.  
  
Barricade only smiled, leading the stunned ‘bot from the room.  
  
“Something wrong with the service?” Onslaught asked, eyeing Barricade as he came back down into the common area, Meister in tow.  
  
“No, I want to negotiate his price,” Barricade smirked.  
  
“We already---”  
  
“No. The price to buy him from you,” Barricade said. Meister could feel the tension beginning to gather into the black mech’s limbs.  
  
Onslaught laughed, “He ain’t for sale.”  
  
“I’m going to have to insist,” Barricade said, his optics taking on a shade of red around the edges.  
  
“Insist all you want, but that bot isn’t for sale. You couldn't possibly give me the amount he would make over a lifetime,” Onslaught sneered.  
  
“I was hoping you would say that,” Barricade said, his grin growing feral, and he lunged, taking the bigger mech by surprise.  
  
Meister backed away, his optics wide and full of panic as he watched Barricade tear into Onslaught. He hid his faceplates, knowing that Onslaught’s brothers would come rushing in at any moment.  
  
He stumbled back from the fight, flinching away as mech-blood splattered against his plating.  
  
Onslaught ended up in a growing puddle of mechblood that inched across the floor closer, and closer to Meister.  
  
“Come on,” Barricade said, taking his hand and pulling Meister away. The stunned silver mech allowed himself to be pulled out the door.  
  
“Did you---did you offline him?” Meister asked quivering as Barricade pulled him down the street. It was surprisingly quiet.  
  
“No, he might even live a bit longer,” Barricade laughed, as he pushed Meister into the closest ally and pressed him against the wall. “At least until I go back for him,” he whispered, nuzzling into Meister’s audial. “You’d like that wouldn’t you? For him to suffer?”  
  
“I just want to be free,” Meister said, tilting his head up to catch Barricade’s lips. He knew how this played out well enough, and pressed his heating frame against Barricade’s, and hoped the other mech wouldn’t draw it out.  
  
Barricade hitched him up so he was pinned between the wall and Barricade’s own chassis. His feet dangling, until the black mech pushed Meister’s legs up around his hips, their interface panels rubbing up against one another. “Open up, little mech,” Barricade purred, and grinned widely at the snick of the silver panel sliding open.  
  
Meister offlined his optics, letting the feeling take over. His chassis felt like it was burning under Barricade’s touches. His hands seemed everywhere. Dipping into seams, pinching wires, tweaking Meister’s winglets until he was whimpering, face buried against Barricade’s neck cording.  
  
Laughter rumbled low through Barricade’s chest cavity, more a purr than a real vocalization. He finally let his interface panel slide away, lining up his spike so it pressurized directly into Meister’s warm wet depth.    
  
The silver bot clung to him, shivering in surprised, and gripped his legs more tightly. “Scrap...that...”  
  
Barricade held still, waiting for the lining to adjust, and when the valve stopped clenching and spasming around him, he moved.  
  
Meister clung, keening as the world seemed to explode around him, a keen edge of pain mixed in with the pleasure.  


OoOoOoOoOoOo

  
  
It was far into the nightcycle before Barricade returned, leaving Prowl annoyed at best. He stalked across the room, eyeing his brother, and the silver mech beside him. The smell of ozone lingered over the two, nearly making Prowl’s chemoreceptors twitch, if they could do such a thing. “You were supposed to bring him straight here,” he said, opticing his brother. “Unicron’s gears, I swear you are impossible. Go...just go to the wash-rack and get cleaned up before you take him to Jazz. I don’t want the first sight of his brother to be one full of paint transfers,” Prowl cast him an annoyed look, which only grew at Barricade's amused guffaw.  
  
“Loosen up brother, I doubt Jazz would care either way.”  
  
Prowl snorted, “You---are a hopeless piece of shareware, Barricade. Just get out of my sight.”    
  
Barricade was still laughing as he pulled Meister down the hallway. “He’s always such a killjoy,” Barricade smirked. He wouldn't argue with the wash-rack though. He could use a good cleaning.  
  
Meister was easy enough to guide down the hallway, optics staring as they walked down the hallways. “Where are we?”    
  
“The old palace. Much of the new city was built on top of it,” Barricade said smirking.  
  
“Oh. I---I see,” Meister said as he was pushed into the wash-rack, and then under the showerhead.  
Barricade grabbed a cleaning rag and set to the business of removing the paint transfers, and admired the bot’s curves and clean lines. He mused, he really wouldn't mind having this one warm his berth. “Let’s get you down to protoform, I doubt they ever gave you a good detailing.”    
  
“No, please---” Meister tried to shift away, but Barricade made short work of it, laying Meister’s armour carefully off to the side before turning his full attention back to the silver ‘bot.  
  
He stared for a long moment, one hand going up to touch Meister’s protoform. His hand tracing the valleys in the protoform, long scars. Some old, darkened marks against the otherwise smooth protoform. Other’s were deep gashes that obviously healed wrong. Then there was the barely healed marks, some only orns old.  
  
Meister whimpered, “Please don’t send me away. I know it’s hideous.”  
  
Barricade huffed, pulling the slight mech to him, and running a hand across his back, mindful of the sores. “I wouldn’t do that.” Far from it. He could barely contain the murderous rage. He would kill them all, and make them suffer for this. Suffer as they had made Meister suffer. He kept his field calm and soothing though, pushing the raging emotions down.      
  
“Let’s get this back on you and have Knock Out take a look at you, sweetling,” Barricade said, helping the smaller bot dry off and place the armour carefully back on to him.  
  
The trip from the wash-racks to the infirmary was not far. Meister was still shaking by the time they got there.  
  
“Hey, Knock Out, I need you to take a look at him,” Barricade said with little preamble, already depositing Meister on the medical berth, and working on getting his armour back off.  
  
“Well, isn’t this a pleasant sur---scrap. That’s a mess,” the medic hummed, as he leaned in to examine one of the newer gashes. “Well, at least there is no corrosion. That makes things a bit easier.”    
  
“Make things easier?” Meister asked, craning his neck to look back.  
  
“Yes, most of them can be smoothed out with minimal scarring. You’ll still have some faint scaring, but nothing like it looks like now. We’ll just have to add protoform mass, and more nanite cultures. It’s an easy enough fix,” the Medic said smirking. “Just lay on your front and I’ll get to work.”  
  
“Is this going to take long?” Barricade asked, watching intently.  
  
“Three joors, give or take.” Knock Out said. “Might as well take a seat and get comfy.”  
  
Barricade only nodded, and opened the comlink to his brother’s frequency. “Hey, Prowler, we’ve reached a snag, I’m not going to take Meister to Jazz until next cycle. We’re in the medbay right now getting him patched up.”  
  
“Knock Out already commed me. Just keep me appraised of the situation.”  
  
“Always, brother.”  


OoOoOoOoOoOo

  
Jazz was a wiggling mass of nerves. He had been since Prowl told him that they had found Meister. “Do you think it will be much longer before they will let me see him?”  
  
“I’m sure it won’t be long,” Thundercracker mused, staring at his bondmate.  
  
“It’s already been a cycle.”  
  
“Jazz,” Thundercracker sighed, nearly laughing. “He’s safe. Be happy for that.”    
  
“I am,” Jazz said, sidling up to his bondmate he curled up on Thundercracker’s lap. “Things are just moving so very fast.”  
  
“They are,” Thundercracker agreed, petting Jazz’s side.  
  
They both jumped at the ping on the door. Thundercracker sent the command for the door to open, barely holding Jazz back from tackling the mech in the doorway.    
  
Barricade stood in the doorway, his claws on the shoulder of a silver mech before him. The mech leaned back into Barricade, looking down at the floor, his optics darting up occasionally, and landing firmly on Jazz.  
  
“Jazz?” the silver mech asked, his voice as melodic as Jazz’s own.  
  
Thundercracker didn’t stop Jazz the second time he darted and flung himself at the silver mech. “Meister,” Jazz yelled, clinging to the silver mech like a cyberbarnacle until Meister dropped to his knees, equalizing their height. “You’re so big,” Jazz laughed, hugging his brother tightly. He knew that most likely that would be the case, but seeing Meister, and realizing he came barely to the middle of his chest was another thing entirely.    
  
Meister only chuckled, hugging his brother more tightly. “I was so scared for you,” he whispered, letting his field flare and mingle with Jazz’s. He finally pushed the smaller mech away, and looked him up and down. Touching his face plates. “I never thought I would see you again,” he vented, pulling Jazz close again. “And then I was so scared I would see you in that horrible place.”    
  
“We’re safe, now,” Jazz said, resting his helmet against Meister’s. His optics flicked past Meister to land on Barricade. “Thank you for finding him. Prowl said you brought him in, and...I---I don’t even know how to thank you enough for it.”  
  
Barricade put a proprietary claw on Meister’s shoulder. “There is no need.”  
  
Jazz’s optics widened. “Oh.” He almost laughed with the way his brother’s cheeks flushed hot as energon rushed into those lines. “I see.”  
  
Jazz flushed and pulled away, “I guess you should meet my bondmate, Thundercracker.”    
  
Meister smiled, and to Jazz’s relief it was genuine.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

  
Starscream had always known the electric paint job that Decimus had insisted on would come in handy one day. He looked at Skywarp, whose black paint now mirrored his own. It had taken more digging than Starscream had imagined, and a lot of visits into the less than savoury parts of Praxus, to find the mech responsible for their own enslavement.  
  
They had a name. Clench.  
  
They had watched the mech for cycles, learning his habits, his schedule, and finally they were ready to snag their prey.  
  
For once the mech was alone.  
  
Warp winked an optic at Starscream, before grabbing him and warping them both inside. Clench let out a startled yell before his optics narrowed and he lunged at the fliers.  
  
“You think I don’t get any assassin attempts?” he sneered, lunging again.  
  
It was all Starscream could do not to roll his optics, he raised his null ray, and fired. Smiling as the black mech fell to the floor with a satisfying thump.  
  
“Like I give a frack about who tries to offline you.” Skywarp said, already slapping stasis cuffs onto the mech. He turned to Starscream, frowning as he watched his brother unspool his datacords. “You sure this is a good idea?”  
  
“Trust me,” Starscream smiled. “Besides, when I’m done getting what we need to find TeeCee, I’ve got a surprise in store for our friend.” He kicked Clench in the side. “I doubt he will live to see it’s culmination.”  
  
Skywarp only snorted, and ripped open Clench’s medical port. “Come on, Star, we don’t have all dark cycle.”  
  
Starscream jacked in, ripping through the mech’s firewalls as if they were nothing at all. He tore through the mech’s meta until he found the information that he wanted it, and saved it into his own processor. It was more than he had hoped for. Where Thundercracker was supposed to be sent, the buyer had been Overlord, but the flier had never made it to Clench’s client. There was a file on the mech they had forced Thundercracker to bond with, and amazingly the information on all of the other mechs that had been sold through the vorns as well. Starscream tucked it all away before he let the virus free in Clench’s system.  
  
“Got it?” Skywarp asked before Starscream removed his datacords.  
  
“Yes, got it all,” his faceplates scrunched. “We should get out of here, before the screaming starts.” He gave Skywarp a crooked smile as they both dashed towards their entryway. As if on key a bloodcurdling scream erupted from Clench’s vocalizer.     
  
“What did you do to him?” Skywarp asked, bewildered as the sound could be heard, rising as they made their escape.  
  
“You don’t even want to know.” Starscream said.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

  
Prowl was far more agitated than Barricade had seen him in vorns. “Someone beat us to it. All of our hard work, lost.”  
  
Thundercracker watched the mech, and exchanged looks with Jazz before he moved closer to the vampire. “Sir---Prowl. I’m sure there is some other way.”    
  
“His mind was destroyed, and the files we needed along with it. I had Soundwave see if anything could be salvaged, but there is just nothing left. The virus that was planted inside---”  
  
“Then maybe this is enough?” Thundercracker reasoned, extending out his field to brush against Prowl’s. “We are safe, and cared for. That must mean something.”  
  
Prowl’s optics softened, “More than you know, little one.”    
  
Jazz moved, pressing himself against Prowl, “And eventually we will find the others that were taken. There are others that know what was going on.” He glanced back, giving Barricade a little grin and made a shooing motion. He didn’t look back to see if the black mech had left before he pulled on Prowl’s helmet kissing him hard.  
  
Prowl’s field flared around them, desire and need echoing their own. “You don’t have to---”  
  
Thundercracker chuckled, “We know.” His glossa flicked out, breezing across the larger bots neck cording. “But we want you...if you will have us.”  
  
Prowl didn’t answer, merely pulled them close and let their field flare and mingle until it became hard to tell who began where.  
  
The three of them fell to the floor, heedless of where they were.  
  
Barricade stood outside the door, shaking his head for a moment. He was surprised that it took this long. He had never known Prowl to keep his field so closed off as it had been since he brought the pair home. He hoped it would take some of the tension out of the air.  
  
If Prowl loosening up was also a result, he could not see how that was not a benefit. If anything his brother deserved happiness as much as the two bots with them. He smirked, leaving them to it as he walked away down the hall to find his own berth. Meister was already waiting there, which was one more thing to be pleased about.  
  
He turned his mind to the seekers, one thought tree already dedicated to searching the news feeds and infonet on any lead to where they might be. He had his suspicions, but nothing concrete enough to take to Prowl.  
  
He managed to dodge his agents, and finally slipped into his own berthroom, a smirk still on his faceplates.  
  
“You look pleased about something,” Meister said, optics half-shuttered as he watched the Praxian stride into the room.  
  
Barricade laughed, “That is one way to put it.”    
  
Meister hummed, crossing the space between them. “Just one way?” He pressed himself against Barricade, tilting his helm up to look at Barricade’s faceplates. “You sure?” a playful smile crept across his face.  
  
Black digits smoothed across the silver plating along Meister’s spinal strut. Always so pliant. The silver mech was always more than willing to please. As much as Barricade loved it there was still a niggling worry in his processor. He hoped that the mech was feeling what he did. There was something there that he was not quite willing to name yet. More than just a convenient berthmate.  
  
“You worry too much,” Meister said, wrapping his arms around Barricade’s neck, and let out the most wonderful noise to Barricade’s audials when they finally kissed. He tilted his head, melting into the kiss as their glossas entwined.  
  
The kiss ended and Barricade pulled away looking at Meister’s faceplates, he plucked the visor off and looked deep into those white optics. He could see how some bots would find them uncomfortable, inscrutable, he was only beautiful to Barricade. “Perhaps I do,” the look on his faceplates anything but. He pushed Meister back until the fell together back on the berth in a heap. Laughter trickling from both of their vocalisers.  
  
“Perhaps you should,” Barricade purred, straddling those silver chassis, “make it your business to see that I don’t.”  
  
Meister quivered underneath him, fans roaring. “Maybe I will,” he said, making a little gasping sound as Barricade nipped at his neck.  
  
Digits gliding, finding all the sensitive nooks and crannies, Barricade had Meister arching and screaming his name before too long. They finally fell into recharge together, entangled.  
  
He did not want this to end. Meister grasped at the thought, holding it close to his spark, and hoped.  


OoOoOoOoOoOo

  
The day cycle passed, slowly bleeding off into the night. The minibots were still curled up against Prowl by the time he onlined. Two warm bodies, pressed against him, venting gently. He froze, offlining his optics, content to bask in the moment. There was so much to do, but he figured a few passing kliks would make little difference.  
  
Jazz purred, curling closer, his optics still shuttered, but Prowl could feel his systems whirling up towards wakefulness. Hands found Thundercracker’s unerringly as they slipped across Prowl’s chassis, entwining, and hugging the Praxian tightly between them.  
  
Thundercracker’s engine purred just as loudly as Jazz’s, his optics flicked open, glowing a dim gold in the darkened room. The Seeker curled close, this was the safest he held felt in longer than he could remember. Possibly ever. He had little doubt that Prowl would protect them both. It was...a very tempting arrangement, on so many levels.  
  
“How long do we have?” Thundercracker finally whispered, breaking the fragile silence around him.  
  
Prowl hummed, considering it. “In a hurry?”    
  
“No---yes---I don’t know,” Thundercracker said, his hand convulsing, and squeezing Jazz’s.  
  
“I will give you vorns if you need it. We have time,” Prowl said, hugging the little flier close.  
  
“Good. I---I know Jazz wants a sparkling. So...at least until after---maybe---” Thundercracker finally got it out, cheeks flushing with energon.  
  
“I wouldn't deny you that,” Prowl whispered. The soft vent Thundercracker let out made the Praxian smile. “You were truly worried about that? Even after you know I had a family of my own before?”  
  
“Maybe.” Thundercracker fidgeted, and hid his face against Prowl’s plating. “I never thought it would be an option. Before...before...” he shivered, letting out a little whimper.    
  
“They would have been sold. Yes, I know. But it is different now. I would treat any spark of yours like my own. I can promise you that.”     
  
Thundercracker shivered against him. His spark fluttered, with something. It was so very close to love, but he was unwilling to call it that yet. “Thank you.”

OoOoOoOoOoOo

  
They were being followed, had been for blocks, even after they had darted through the lower levels of the city. It left the back of Starscream’s spinal struck prickling. They were so close to being done. They had worked their way through the list, knocking off Clench’s contacts, clients, and underlings. Unfortunately, the energon laced swathe they had wove across Praxus was getting attention. The worse kind, unfortunately.  
  
Starscream wondered if it was worth it, really. Sure they had freed countless numbers of slaves, helped them to find a safe place, and in some cases found caretakers for them.  
  
But...  
  
They had found no trace of their brother, much to the pain of their sparks.  
  
Skywarp twitched beside him, glancing back, his optics wide. “Who do you think it is?” he hissed under his breath.  
  
“Does it matter?” Starscream scowled.  
  
“Yeah, if they corner us in some alley it matters all kinds of ways, Star. Yah know...if you keep scowling like that---” Skywarp smirked.  
  
He turned, stopping short at the mech blocking their path. Starscream’s optics narrowed dangerously, his mood souring by the moment. “What do you want?”    
  
There was something off about the mech. Something that left Starscream feeling uneasy. “You’re one of them...one of Unicron’s children.” He took a step back, pushing Warp behind him.  
  
The black mech stepped closer, lips curling in amusement. “Not many mechs can pick us out so easily.”  
  
“Not many mechs have been through what I have.”  
  
The black mech hmm’d. “I know some who have faced worse. I know your face. Decimus was your sire, wasn’t he. You were on the news feeds...what was it...a few orns ago? And then  you all but disappeared. Very strange happenings, I would say.”  
  
Starscream took a step back, bumping into Skywarp.  
  
“Don’t worry, it’s not like I’m going to report you to the enforcers,” the black mech smirked, his amusement clear in his wing language. “I think...I have something you have been looking for. In fact, I’m sure of it.”  
  
A/N-  
-[ http://transformers.wikia.com/wiki/Decimus](http://transformers.wikia.com/wiki/Decimus)  
-<http://tfwiki.net/wiki/Jhiaxus_%28G2%29>  
-The idea for small pleasurebot frames (stunting growth) came from a few of Gatekat’s fics. Used with her permission.  
-Beta’d by the nice people in Gdocs chat. <3 Especially to Xobit, KDZeal, Gallifreya, and Kyuugi82. <3  
-Thanks to Phoenix for her help. =O


End file.
